


The Flight

by LittleSweetCheeks



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode fill, F/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27981258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSweetCheeks/pseuds/LittleSweetCheeks
Summary: After Andrada, Elizabeth has to survive a very long flight back to Henry.
Relationships: Elizabeth McCord/Henry McCord
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	The Flight

The cabin of the SUV was silent, tension was so thick in the air she could barely breathe. In the driver’s seat, she watched as Matt fisted and released the steering wheel, his knuckles going white each time his muscles tensed. They matched the steady throb and release of the muscles in his jaw. She had never, in her years as the Secretary, seen her agent so utterly…pissed.

The SUV’s engine got incrementally louder, an audible mark that Matt’s foot was pressing harder on the pedal. He rarely drove recklessly, not with her in the vehicle, but Frank said nothing from the passenger seat. The lights and sirens were on, warning the world that they were carrying, as the pair had jokingly called it once, precious cargo.

She swallowed. Her entire body was shaking now, as much from the initial assault as from discovering in the worst possible way that her agents had not been kidding all this time that, if it came to it, they would physically remove her without her full cooperation.

She’d shouted, desperate to be saved. Never before had she found herself terrified of the six agents who’d burst through the doors, guns raised, only seconds later, clearing the room as the two with her now nearly took her off her feet in their haste to get her to safety.

It’d never crossed her mind, until she was being rushed through the halls of the Presidential Palace, that she was so often surrounded by only men.

Desperate to not fall apart, not yet, she spread her hands out, palms down as she rubbed then against her legs. An arm reached across and caught her right hand making her gasp, flinching away as if she’d been burned. Eyes wide, she cowered into the corner of her seat and stared in silence. She’d forgotten Blake was even in the car.

His own eyes were wide, perhaps startled by her strong response. When he spoke, it was low and gentle. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. Your- your hand, it’s still bloody and I- I didn’t want you to ruin your dress.” Despite her forgetting he was there, it seemed he’d been keeping a close eye on her. Always aware and anticipating what she might need next.

Confused, her eyes tracked slowly to her hand and her stomach lurched. “Oh god!” She clamped her left hand over her mouth, eyes slammed shut, willing her body to not revolt.

She heard the shift of the seat ahead of her, Frank no doubt turning to see what was wrong, and then Blake’s voice again. “Keep driving, no matter what.” There was a crinkle of plastic- a water bottle. “Give it here.” Cautiously, she risked opening her eyes. His left hand was hovering now just in her line of sight. Waiting, palm up.

She offered her bloodied hand and watched as he used his now-wet pocket square to clean the blood from her skin, the pale fabric not doing anything to hide the way the red smeared across it. She hissed when he touched the cuts on her knuckles and pulled away. “I’m going to be sick.” The rumbling sway of the SUV wasn’t helping, the blood still in the creases between her fingers weren’t helping, the sight of the now-bloodied pocket square really wasn’t helping. She wasn’t even aware she’d said the words out loud until her hand was pulled away from her mouth and a small white bag was placed in it just in time.

“Mister Moran?” There was worry now in Frank’s voice.

“I said keep driving.” It was short, there was bite to it.

“Yes, Sir.”

If it’d been any other instance, she might’ve found it interesting, or perhaps even funny, that her agent used such deferment to her assistant, but now… Now she was thankful she didn’t have to speak, didn’t have to focus on anything.

The bag was tugged out of her grip once it seemed her stomach had given up what it needed to, and it was replaced with the bottle of water. “Small sips.”

She complied; thankful the bottle was only partly full, so her shaking didn’t cause it to spill. “I want Henry. I wish he was here.” When the cabin remained silent, she risked looking toward Blake.

He met her gaze and held it. “I know… Me too.” His eyes finally pulled away. “We’re here.”

Reluctantly, she allowed the agents to escort her to the suite. For the first time ever, she was uncomfortable being surrounded by them and she thought she’d done a good job covering until Blake’s voice again filtered through from somewhere behind them.

“Guys… Give her space.”

She really didn’t give him enough credit for his perceptiveness.

Matt and another agent twisted around, seemingly ready to question the instruction, but they must’ve gotten a silent response because they moved away.

At the door, she waited for Blake to slip the key card in and out, bothered that she couldn’t flee to privacy and safety on her own. Once it was just the two of them inside, she spoke. “I just- I just need a minute.”

“Of course. I’ll be right out here.”

The bedrooms were up the stairs, a novelty compared to most diplomatic suites. In her room, she pushed the door shut, allowing the shaking she’d been fighting to overwhelm her as the first sob slipped free. Knowledge of what’d been done to her, the violation she’d endured, rushed to the surface as she slid to the floor, back to the door. All she could feel were _his_ hands on her, touching her, doing things she’d never given any man permission to do. It made every touch she’d had to tolerate in the minutes since feel like a violation as well. She could feel them all. She could feel the way her agents had roughly grabbed her, they way their hands had been on her arms, her waist. She could feel the concerned touch to her shoulder from Blake, checking her state, before they’d climbed into the SUV. She could feel his hand around her wrist as he tried to save her dress from the blood and then there was the crawling feeling in her hand where he’d gently held it to clear that blood away.

It was all a violation now. All tied together. No touch was welcome, friendly, kind.

She gasped, willing herself not to fall apart, knowing it was hopeless to try and fight it. She could hear herself, knew how she sounded, mournful wails as her body leeched off all the emotion.

A soft knock on the door, low and near her head, startled her enough to make her hold her breath.

“Ma’am, I-” His voice was only loud enough to be heard through the paneling. “I have your phone… To call Henry. Can I- can I come in to give it to you?”

“…No.” The word barely made a sound.

“Ma’am?” There was the sound of movement on the other side, a soft thud as she guessed he adjusted how he was sitting. His voice changed then, no longer the tone he usually used, but instead overflowing with kindness and concern. “I need to at least hear you, Elizabeth, or I’ll have to… I’ll have to force my way in. I know you don’t want that.”

She cleared her throat. “You can’t come in.”

There was a pause. “Okay… You said you wanted Henry and the, uh, your phone and the computer are out here.”

“Not yet, Blake.” Her voice caught, broke, and then the sobs started again. Her body shook so hard it felt like her teeth were chattering. She so desperately wanted Henry, wanted to hear him tell her it would be okay, but she couldn’t…couldn’t let his touch be sullied with the memory of such violation. She couldn’t face her detail or Blake, not knowing they knew what had been done to her.

She wasn’t even aware she’d begun gasping, lost in the overwhelming sea of fear and anxiety, until Blake spoke again. “Elizabeth… You’ll be okay. Take a breath for me…please.”

She tried. She tried so hard, but her body wouldn’t let her. “I can’t.” She slid sideways, curling up on the floor as her vision dimmed at the edges.

His voice seemed to move with her. “You’re hyperventilating. I don’t want you to pass out.”

She tried to respond, tried to convince him, and herself, that she wasn’t coming unraveled, but words became fuzzy and then dimmed entirely.

=MS=

She tensed under the hand moving across her back and, for a moment, feared that being rescued had been a dream. Visions of waking up still in Andrada’s grasp, unknowing of what violations he’d forced upon her while she was unconscious, rushed to the surface and she lashed out before her mind processed that they were just that- visions.

The hand vanished from her back and the bed shifted as a weight got off it, making her stomach lurch anew with dread and fear. She was mostly certain she was no longer with Andrada, but she most definitely was on a bed and not alone.

“Here, here, it’s okay.” The body may have moved, but the person hadn’t, and she was thankful as she found herself guided over a waste bin. “Please open your eyes. You need to open our eyes and see that you’re safe.”

Slowly, she cracked them open. Blake’s face swam in her line of vision. He was kneeling beside the bed now, one hand hovering inches from her arm as if he were afraid to make contact.

“Thank you.” He kept his eyes on hers.

When it felt like her stomach was done, she nodded and laid back. “How’d I get here?”

She watched him move the bin out of the way and then return to her side, kneeling again with his arms on the mattress. “You passed out against the door. I- I picked the lock and forced my way in. I have… I have your pills and your phone, so you can call Henry.” It didn’t answer the question she was really asking, but then, maybe it did. There was no way he’d allow anyone in without her consent until he truly felt there was no other choice. She knew his devotion and protectiveness ran at least as deep and wide as Henry’s.

“I have to call the White House.”

“It can wait, Ma’am, we have time.” His voice was smooth, soothing.

She pushed herself upright. “I have to let Conrad know what happened. There’s no Interchange without The Philippines. We can’t risk millions dying over this.”

“Nothing is going to happen today. We can still fix this tomorrow.” She didn’t miss as he glanced at his watch. “Henry should be out of class by now to take your call.”

“It’ll have to wait.”

The muscles in his jaw flexed and his nostrils flared. Unlike her earlier surprise with Matt, she knew Blake could have a temper, had witnessed before when he’d been pushed to that point, but he remained silent this time. The only visible clue to the feelings that seemed to be simmering beneath were the ways his eyes seemed to harden and the snide sharpness his face took on as he tried to reign himself in. “Okay. I’ll set up the call downstairs.” There was a forced evenness to his voice. Before she could thank him, he vanished from the room.

=MS=

Outside of informing her that they were being thrown out of the country, Blake hadn’t said a word to her in the three hours since their last conversation. The gaping silence was obvious. She could feel her detail staring at them, wondering, no doubt, what had happened once the doors had closed in the hotel.

She still felt off kilter, like she needed to crawl out of her skin for a while, and she still hadn’t called Henry. Asking for either now felt like it would be giving Blake that victory and she loathed that, in this horrid instance, he had such power over her life.

Anger swirled in to mix with every other emotion whirling through her veins.

The plane was cold, and she shivered, unsure as to where her coat had gone and remembering a conversation a day ago in her kitchen about how thin the dress was. She wished she’d thought to change.

Tucking her face into the corner by the window, Elizabeth felt a tear fall. She so desperately wanted this nightmare to be over, for her to just wake up and it not have happened. She wanted to stop feeling hands all over her body. She wanted there to be no looks of pity… or anger, on her behalf.

Something warm and soft covered her and she startled, eyes snapping up to where Blake was leaning forward, placing the shawl that travelled with them over her.

“I’m- you looked cold.” She wondered if he’d started to apologize, but for what? He’d done nothing wrong.

“Thank you, Blake.” She pulled the blue wrap tighter around her arms.

He looked away as he spoke again. “I can see you’re fighting it, but… it’s twelve hours till we get home and… I really think you need to talk one of your pills.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” It wasn’t sharp this time, there was no anger in his tone, only concern. A need for understanding.

“You wouldn’t- you wouldn’t understand.”

“So… explain it to me.”

She shook her head. “I’m the only woman on this plane… I can’t fall asleep.”

He took a step back and then another. She suspected the weight of that simple statement was the reason.

“I want Henry.”

“I’ll get the computer-”

“Blake, no…”

When she looked up, he was silently studying her.

“I can still feel hands… So many hands… I don’t want to- I don’t want to hate his touch too.”

“Hands?”

She pulled the fabric up higher. “It’s all part of the same thing in my mind. Him touching me… them grabbing me so hard… you… I don’t want it to ruin Henry for me too.”

He was still watching her. If she told him to go, he would. If she asked him to stay, he would do that too.

“I don’t know what to do… I don’t know what I want… or need.” Another tear slipped free. “What do I do?” She was a firm believer in the old saying that a person is only as strong as the people they surrounded themselves with. She surrounded herself with some of the strongest people she’d ever met, not just physically. When she was unsure, they always knew what to do.

The cabin lapsed into silence except for the roar of the plane engines. Two minutes passed them by before Blake quietly slipped away without offering a solution. Alone, she held herself in for a minute longer, but her system had other ideas. A sob escaped, then another…and another. Before she knew it, she again couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t stop the shaking, knew she was starting the cycle all over again.

She slammed her eyes shut and stayed there; aware she was breaking apart.

Vaguely, she was aware when Blake sat beside her sometime later. He didn’t reach out like he’d done in the past, still respecting her need for space even as it was obvious that she needed comfort. “Please let me call Henry.”

She shook her head.

“Let me call someone else then. If you keep this up, we’ll have to make an emergency landing once we get to Hawaii.” She glared at him for that, but there was resolve on his face now. “I told you, you can trust me with your life… I mean that. It also means that if I think you’re not putting your own wellbeing first, I’ll do it for you.” He moved his hand, landing it on the computer she hadn’t noticed. “You said I won’t understand… Let me call someone for you who will.”

She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She didn’t want to keep repeating over and over again what had happened to her. It was bad enough everyone on the plane already knew. “H- Henry.”

He nodded, turning the computer on before logging in. When the call connected, she expected he would simply push it to her and walk away, but instead she listened as he greeted her husband and then simply shared that something had happened and they were on their way home instead of carrying on to Singapore.

Then, the computer screen turned, and he left her to privately talk. “Henry.” Her voice cracked on his name. “Something happened… to me.” Her face twisted; she pulled the shawl up again. “I was on my own with Andrada… he made some advances at me and then he… He assaulted me. I think he would’ve tried to do more but I- I reacted and broke his nose…” She sniffled, sucking in a breath. “I can still feel him touching me, Henry. I can’t make it stop.” The sniffle was replaced by a sob. “I was so scared.” When she risked looking at the screen, all she found was honest concern and compassion. “I yelled, Henry. I yelled for help and my detail came in and… I… Henry…” She couldn’t talk around the crying now.

“Babe.” Henry sighed. “Blake said you’re on the way back?”

She nodded.

“Can you take some deep breaths for me? I can’t help you from here if you have a panic attack, Babe.”

“I’ve- I keep having them.”

“Your pills aren’t helping?”

“I- I don’t want them.” She shook her head violently. “I can’t take them. Not here.” The idea of doing so made the overwhelmed feeling worse. “It’s just me and them, Henry. Please don’t make me.”

Confusion was obvious on his face. “Babe?” She watched as he looked off screen, frowning before looking back. “It’ll be okay, Elizabeth. I know this is hard right now and I know you’d rather be left alone, but I need you to be okay. I need to know you are okay.” His words didn’t make since to her.

“I want you.” She was back to shaking again, her distress causing her head to ache.

“I know you do.” Before he could say more, Blake was sitting in the seat beside her. “Babe, Blake has your pills. I need to see you take one now. I promise you, you’re safe on that plane. No one will do anything to you.”

“Henry…”

“Look at me.” When she did, he tried to smile for her. “Please do it for me. Blake won’t leave you alone, okay? I trust him to look out for you.”

After a beat, she nodded. “Okay.”

A white pill and a fresh bottle of water appeared on the table. Hesitantly, she took the pill and drank half the water, after which, Blake slipped away again for a moment, returning with a small pillow which he tucked against the window for her.

“Close your eyes, Babe, I’ll be right here till you fall asleep.”

=MS=

She still felt a bit like she was floating, an effect of drugs still in her system.

Twisting in her seat, Elizabeth studied the partly dim cabin. The shades had all been drawn and the lights turned off, to help her sleep most likely. She worried for a moment that she’d been left alone after all, but then the soft sound of singing coming from the galley behind her caught her attention. She tried to clear her throat to no avail and her words came out as a croak. “Blake?”

His head popped comically around the corner, clearly surprised to see her awake.

“Water?”

“Of course.” He vanished again and then reappeared with a bottle of water plus a sandwich on a plate. He drew a breath as he sat beside her again. “You’ve slept about four hours. Henry said to make sure you eat once you’re awake, I got you a cheese sandwich. I know it’s not your favorite, but it should be easy enough on your system.” She didn’t miss the wait he hesitated after he finished, clearly unsure what to do next.

She wasn’t sure either. “Thank you. And… Thank you for not giving up or… or expressing your anger. I know you were angry. At the situation… at me.”

“I’m sorry if I let it show, Ma’am.”

She tugged a bite of the sandwich apart. “I think we’re past that for this trip, don’t you?” She was trying for a joke, but still couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Can I- can I look over your knuckles?”

She offered her hand, but when he took it in his, she recoiled back.

“It’s okay. It can wait.”

A tear broke free. “I can’t pull back from Henry. I have to get past this.”

“Then we have about eight hours to figure it out.”

=MS=

A tremor ran through her body and she felt him start to pull away. “No. Please don’t.”

“This isn’t about torturing yourself, Elizabeth.”

“Just… give me sixty seconds. Let me try to work through it.”

They’d started small, Blake finally looking over her hand, then resting his on her shoulder. She was so desperate to be able to fall into Henry’s arms in just a few short hours.

“You need a break. You’re pushing yourself too hard.” She felt him start to pull away where they were now standing in the aisle, hugging, but she held him tighter, forcing him to not let go. “Henry will understand.”

“I don’t want understanding. I want my husband to be able to hold me.” Turning her head, she pressed her ear to his chest, listening without really trying to the thumping rhythm of his heartrate. “Blake?”

She could hear the hum of his response in his chest.

“Will you stay with me? Until they drop me off?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“I shouldn’t have met with him alone. I- I don’t want to be…” She wasn’t sure how to express her worries.

“I will be at your side until you say otherwise.”

“Will you- will you sing?” It was one thing both he and Henry had in common, their love of singing. Both had used it on more that one occasion to help her calm when she was especially rattled. As he began, she closed her eyes, forcing the memories of the day away.


End file.
